


hug the sun (at your own risk)

by watername



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8502967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watername/pseuds/watername
Summary: "Cuddle it out," he says, and if that's not the most bizarre thing Youngbae's heard in Seunghyun's deep, formal intonation, then he gives up.





	

Youngbae isn't imagining things: Seunghyun is definitely staring at him. While he suspects he's been doing it for a while, he can't really be sure. When your eyes are hidden behind impenetrably dark sunglasses, it's difficult enough, and much less when you're navigating a busy airport on a tight schedule. Travelling to and fro is still a hustle and bustle in and of itself on a calm day, and today has been the opposite of calm, what with their late departure, getting stuck in traffic, and the coup-de-grace of one of their fansites leaking their departure plans. It was, altogether, a lovely confluence of chaos that, yes, prevented Youngbae from processing any weird staring behavior from Seunghyun.

But he's definitely processing the staring _now_ , as they settle into their seats, with Seunghyun's sunglasses tucked carefully into his shirt as the flight attendants move up and down the rows to make sure everything is stored away. Youngbae hardly reacts, just burrows down into the welcoming softness of the first-class cushion, because he's worked with Seunghyun and his quirks for ten years and awkward stares are relatively minor and hardly worth getting concerned about. He does, however, decide that this behavior can be rewarded in turn and turns his attention down to his phone. He pulls up the camera, because if Seunghyun is going to be weird the least he can expect is to have it recorded for posterity. And as a bonus, Seunghyun won't even get the pleasure of repeatedly adding it and removing it.

He flicks it on, grimacing as he finds it's set to front-facing mode: he looks tired, with a heaviness around the eyes that makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. He flicks listlessly at the screen when Seungri's head pops up into frame like a meerkat.

"Take another one, hyung, that wasn't my best angle," he demands.

Youngbae zooms in so the shot goes directly up Seungri's nose instead, and the younger man makes the best of it, shifting down so that only his eyes are visible above the back of the seat, looking into the lens like he's on a mission of seduction.

He closes the camera instead and ignores the cry of outrage from behind him, but it's too late, the damage is done. The noise is like a sirensong to Jiyong, who rises from the seat in front of Youngbae to look over the scene and grin.

"What did you do to him, Bae?"

Youngbae tries his hand at nonverbal communication at the one person who, if anything was right in the world, should get it. _Leave it alone, Ji_ , _please don't start,_ he begs mentally, but the target of the unspoken plea goes and does the exact opposite, reaching out to tug his phone free. He squeezes his eyes shut as Jiyong cackles over the nostril photo, coos over the bedroom eyes, and he's pretty sure that the persistent clicking noises and Jiyong's soft giggles now mean that there's a photoshoot going on just above his head, working to ensure that all of Seungri's best angles are captured and now documented on his phone.

Whatever. He could use a re-stock of photos in case another Instagram war breaks out, even if he'd prefer to do it on his own time, without costing him precious peaceful moments. They're going off to another series of fan meetings, and it feels like he hasn't slept properly in a month. It feels like he's wearing himself down and there's only a thin layer that's on the verge of tearing: like his apparently boundless reservoir of patience has finally run dry. The occasional bouts of misanthropy or, worse, apathy grate against him and only serve to irritate more - anger at himself for getting like this and for not doing his part in the team cohesion that's kept them together for so long. It's, frustratingly, begun to breed "what ifs" that only add to his stress: what if he slips up, doesn't rein someone back like he should, and they go and do something stupid.

He creaks his eyes open and spies Jiyong pointing the camera at him, smile still huge on his face. He pulls his sleep mask on and makes a face, trusting Jiyong to post it before they take off. If he's going to be a grump he can still manage to give something to the fans.

* * *

When he wakes up later, he's pretty sure he fell asleep without a blanket, but one is tucked up under his chin. It smells a little bit like Seunghyun's cologne; it doesn't seem right to re-use blankets on different passengers, but he still makes sure to thank the attendants for it as he gets off the plane.

* * *

 

About 10 hours later, the fanmeet is successfully run through, and he's trying, desperately, to ignore a raging battle.

He genuinely likes these meets, as do the others. Even though nothing can compare to a concert, playing around on-stage and performing a few songs in a more relaxed atmosphere has its own charms.

That being said, he would pay good money to make sure that all of the props gets sprinted out of reach as soon as they're done with them. That would have saved them from his predicament, hiding out in the bathroom, pretending to take a phone call from Hyorin.

It all had started with Seungri, plucking a couple of ping-pong balls from the stage floor as they exited and made their way back to the dressing room. Deftly, he tossed them from hand to hand, each arc getting higher and higher, with the eventual, inevitable declaration that he would add juggling to his skillset. There was a flash of mischief in Daesung's eyes as he murmured an agreement, commenting peaceably as they entered the room on how their maknae was _such a fast learner!_ Jiyong nodded and pulled out three more balls, lobbing them into the air for Seungri to flail at and then stare in horrified dismay as they all fell to the floor while the two co-conspirators fell into a bout of joint laughter. Youngbae watched in trepidation as Seungri gathered the balls up and held them against his chest like abandoned baby birds.

And, like with all baby birds, the natural thing to do was to throw them.

Youngbae had ducked into the bathroom after the first one hit his cheek, passing by Jiyong, wielding an errant couch cushion like a shield. Jiyong caught him by the belt loop and raised a questioning eyebrow. He, not for the first time, thanked God for Hyorin's existence and pulled out his phone with a halfhearted apologetic face. That got his grip to loosen enough to flee the scene.

What was wrong with him? Was he finally running dry of understanding and now doomed to be the sole buzzkill in the group? His only slightly self-pitying musings are cut off at a solid rapping against the door, an interruption in the the periodic hollow noises of plastic makeshift missiles. He gets up and reaches out, only to take a frantic, crotch-protecting half-step to the side when the door swings open and reveals Seunghyun, with an indecipherable look on his face.

There's a pristinely timed moment where Seunghyun opens his mouth, looking serious and concerned, and one of Youngbae's krunk bears flies above him, just ruffling his hair, accompanied by Seungri's urgent shriek: "Hyung, arm yourself!"

"Um," Seunghyun says and waves vaguely behind him. "They'll finish up soon."

It's accurate, in the technical way that offers no actual comfort. His statement only serves to remind Youngbae that no one but him will put the brakes on. On a personal note, he will also not stand for his bears getting brutally drafted into someone else's war. He puts his hand on Seunghyun's hip and pushes gently in order to angle past, nearly tripping over Daesung, who has stretched himself on his side to peek around the corner of the couch, on the lookout.

When he deploys his supremely honed scolding skills, the ping-pong balls gets picked up and the room is put back into some semblance of order.

Seunghyun managed to slip out and escaped recruitment when Jiyong distracted Youngbae by demanding that he declare a formal winner. He sighs at his absence, but it's hardly anything new.

* * *

 

They've finally got a free night, the flight out is not until late the next morning, and the depth of Youngbae's fulfilling and rewarding free-time plan is hit up the hotel gym by himself for a couple hours and then bury himself under an obscene amount of blankets and watch a movie. He suddenly sees it all die a violent, painful death when there's a knock on his door and Jiyong texts him to come outside and have some fun.

He could just tell Jiyong, but he knows his best friend and his overbearing nature. He wouldn't be content to let an issue be silently, peacefully resolved through seclusion: he'd put Youngbae through a aggressively peppy and well-intentioned bar hop, getting him drunk enough to get angry enough to talk about it. He knows, because he's been through it before, and it's _worked_ , but given the nature of this particular problem - how _jiyong_ is a part of the particular problem - he can't see how his own brand of angry, honest drunk would help the situation.

The knocking dies down but his phone continues to buzz - _r u feeling ok bae? :(_

_just a stomach ache_ , he texts back, only a little ashamed of using Jiyong's hyper-caution about getting sick against him. _go have fun_

_ok but the dongsaengs are w me and u r their mom u kno. they miss u all rdy_

_ke ke ke. u can take care of them 1 nite._

_nooooo_ , Jiyong texts back but it's immediately followed by a smiley face and a photo of Seungri and Daesung pulling exaggerated frowns in the background while Jiyong flips a thumbs-up in the foreground. He has to laugh at that, and the next text of _heard that_

_go already_

_kk_

He listens at the door as their laughter and conversation disappear down the hallway and sighs in relief. That's three, and Seunghyun is probably out with friends, or maybe he was at a gallery? He remembers vaguely something said on the plane about a museum, which is right up his alley. And, out of all the places he could run into Seunghyun, the open hotel gym ranks only slightly more probable than a dance studio.

Content, he slides open the balcony door to let the sounds of the city filter in and breathe in some free air. He's already feeling better, secure in the knowledge that he can wile away at least a few hours by himself, with absolutely no one to look after except his own sweet self.

Which is why, when he opens the door about 15 minutes later, the sight of Seunghyun lurking in the hallway, eyes wide, with a gym bag in hand, makes him wonder if he's somehow been sucked into an alternate dimension. For lack of anything else to do, he lifts up his bag as an unspoken explanation and expects reality to snap back, for Seunghyun to flee down the hall at the sheer allusion to a workout done for fun, but instead the other man follows him as he begins to walk for the elevator.

"You've been weird lately."

His first instinct is to laugh, because A) _Seunghyun_ is saying that to him, B) _Seunghyun_ is saying that to him after ambushing him with the intent to join him on a workout, and C) _Seunghyun_ is the one noticing. Not Jiyong, whose known him longer than anyone else, not Daesung, who manages to pick up on the littlest things, or even Seungri who, when he notices anything, immediately gives it voice.

"Yeah," he says, slowly, eyeballing Seunghyun's bag. " **I'm** being weird. Sorry about that."

Seunghyun doesn't respond to that but he just _looks_ at Youngbae, with the same expression he wore on the airplane just the day before.

It's _pity_.

Youngbae instantly bristles and tightens his jaw. He's not asking for pity; all he's been asking for is just a little time to himself. And it's not like he hasn't still been looking out for everyone, he's just not jumping at the occasion. And it's not like Seunghyun is operating from a loftier position where everything he says and does is completely reasonable and benevolent. And it's not like-

His progressively heated thoughts come to a hard stop when Seunghyun's arms, like the world's awkwardest set of pliers, wrap around his body and squeeze into a hug. Seunghyun rests his chin on top of Youngbae's head and he can smell the cigarette smoke that's settled into all of the other man's clothes as his nose gets pressed into his chest.

This is....not what he expected.

The doors open and Youngbae disentangles himself from Seunghyun's surprisingly competent hold - had he been paying attention Seungri's unasked for jiu jiutsu demonstrations? - and steps out of the elevator, discreetly looking to see if anyone could have seen that. Seunghyun briefly looks like someone just insulted his favorite chair before following him out.

* * *

 It is, bar none, the weirdest fucking work-out.

They part ways when they get back up to their floor, and Youngbae thinks - well. That happened. He ran on a treadmill, and Seunghyun watched him like he thought he was going to fall off at any given moment. He did the rowing machine, and Seunghyun looked like he was on an actual boat and couldn't swim. He finally took advantage of it and made him spot him on weights.

He closes the door to his room without looking behind him, lest Seunghyun start lurking again, and heads into the shower, intent on fulfilling at least part of his plan. He still has an obscene amount of blankets available to him. He still has a movie to watch.

He stands beneath the hot water and urges his mind to blank out and just enjoy the warmth and steam that envelopes him.

It does not oblige him, and he throws himself down on the bed, frustrated at his inability to move past things.

The knock on the door makes him growl in frustration and he lurches off the bed to answer it, finally past the silent annoyance and firmly in the "snap at anything that moves" phase.

"What," he spits as he cracks the door open to - Seunghyun - of course - holding a bottle of...soju.

He's so in shock at it not being wine that he doesn't protest as the taller man pushes into the room, pours him a drink, and sits himself down comfortably on the bed, one thick eyebrow raised.

"What are you doing?" he finally asks, waving his hands vaguely to indicate he means more than just this one act of weirdness, but rather the whole scope of weirdness.

"Ah," Seunghyun starts, pouring soju into a glass. "I'm worried about you."

Youngbae is so stumped that _Seunghyun_ is the one who noticed that he takes the proffered drink without a word, just throwing it back as Seunghyun pours himself a third and continues with progressively more expansive gestures.

"You've been quieter, you lied about talking to Hyorin earlier, and," his tone becomes positively _a-ha!_ , "You didn't say anything about my going with you to the gym earlier. You didn't congratulate me, you didn't make fun, _nothing._ Like I said. You're being weird. And I'm here to make sure you're okay."

With great trepidation, he asks, "How?"

Wordlessly, slowly, Seunghyun sets his glass aside, meticulously takes off his slippers, and slides off his jacket before bouncing up on the bed and stretching himself out, right next to Youngbae's obscene pile of blankets. He squeezes his eyes shut and flings arms open in invitation.

"Cuddle it out," and if that's not the most bizarre thing he's heard in Seunghyun's deep, formal intonation, then he gives up.

Seunghyun opens one eye, just a sliver, enough to see that his invitation isn't being acted on.

"Yah, come on. You know you want to."

Seunghyun's arms look really long, enough to wrap around him, and he's freshly showered, most likely smelling clean and like soap....he even finds himself thinking for the rest of the night. Seunghyun doesn't snore. He is a large, stolid lump of sleep that only wakes up under the highest amount of duress. Youngbae could extract himself as needed with no damage done. He could _snuggle_.

He finds himself moving cautiously towards the bed, as though Seunghyun were a snapping turtle.

"I don't feel like talking," he says, standing just out of reach. Seunghyun shrugs and pats the open space beside him.

"And I definitely don't want to hear about my taste in movies."

Seunghyun nods his acceptance and scoots back as Youngbae sits down beside him.

"And no one else hears about this," he gives his final edict as he lays down and burrows into the pillows, barely managing not to sigh happily as Seunghyun murmurs his agreement to his terms and presses his chest to his back. He's so _warm_.

He closes his eyes and falls asleep to the sound of Seunghyun humming soothing nonsense against his skin.


End file.
